Pain
by Laylania
Summary: My own feelings on what I've done. Poetry, and it's because there isn't a poetry category that this is in here


**Authoress Notes:** I wrote this while crying. The basis for this is that I go through getting picked on and teased -- even by my own parents -- each day and I hope that if anyone can see this, that they'll try to be nicer and help others because of what this deals about. How would you feel if someone you picked on commited suicide?

~*~

**Sometimes** she wishes they could see

How many times it happens, one two three

More than that, so much more

Amidst broken glass, cuts and bright red gore

She can't stop herself, it feels so right

and she curls up and cries herself to sleep at night

Knowing the truth is growing weaker, the lies growing stronger

And she wonders, how much longer

until she finally does it, and cuts too deep

sent on a crimon tide, towards ever lasting, never dying sleep.

**The pain,** it stings

the agony and peace it brings

to her tragic, horrible life

that she slowly ends with the knife

the blood, it flows, from her wrist to the floor

and as she collapses, she thinks..._never more_

**The glass** is smooth, beneath her finger

and the scars on her wrist, of the past they linger

on and on until she breaks down

and never notices, as she hits the ground

shes tired of it all, pain and rejection

and the way this feels, like a drug injection

**It all becomes too much**, too quick, too soon

the hidden emotions bottling like a monsoon

soon to break, to rise the tide

and makes her wonder if she should have died

**And she can't stop it**, if she tried

she can't count the times, the ways she's lied

her way out of being found out, of her secret revealed

she wears the lies and mask like a shield

against all intrusions, against everything

and the way the gash begins to sting

each throb, each pulse, a scream for salvation

that will never reach this angel of damnation

**And so** she keeps doing it, time after time

each day shortening her thin life line

to her school, her friends, who never see

the fear, the insanity, deep rooted agony

that she hides inside herself, lock and key

that tries to break her and make her see

that the more she tries to make it longer

the stronger the monster

**She'll** try and make it through each day

smiling and laughing, trying to see a way

a desperate plea, a scream of pain

that is never heard, lost in the rain

of tears that fall, one at a time

and enforce that she's slowly losing her mind

to the monster, the temptation of the blade

and to the scars on her skin, the mistakes she's made

**Keep** on trying to deny that her life, it's fading

and the longer she struggles the monster she's baiting

to keep her alive, just a little longer

to make herself, just a little bit stronger

in hopes of convincing herself that, perhaps some night

she'll throw away the blade and head towards the light

**On** each night that she repeats this horrible sin

that she cannot control as her life wanes thin

in the long battle that's been waging forever

and she grips the knife, knowing it's now or never

if she gives up now, her hand like lead

she knows, deep down, she's as good as dead

**Fighting** the monster is like fighting a semi-truck

each moment, each second, insurmountable luck

that she's still alive

and trying to survive

because she knows, of those who know her

that she can't let them down, can't let herself sink lower

into the dark abyss that consumes her life

in a never ending pit of agony and strife

**The **fact that she's still alive is a miracle, none the less

and each second she breathes is a way to fight the mess

that she's become, scared and insecure of trust

that her faith in herself and the others is a must

to be able to head towards that light some day

and leave the monsters and demons in decay

**Monster** is not drugs, nor alcohol

it's her high, no need for menthol

she doesn't know if she's higher or lower

than those who shoot up -- are they above or beneath her?

Maybe she'll never know about either one

and all she knows is the battle against the monster will never be won

~*~

**Ending Authoress Notes:** If you'll notice the bold title of each poem verse, it makes a sentance. And this is based on real stuff. I didn't make this up. It's all true.


End file.
